Snark and Ginger
by Rochelle Templer
Summary: A series of one-shots, short stories and ficlets centered around Vislor Turlough: coward and hero, selfish and loyal, tireless sarcasm machine and Trion with a heart of gold.
1. Sighting the Target

Sighting the Target

 **Author's Note** : This fic is sort of a companion piece (joke somewhat intended) to the first chapter of my Tea and Cricket fic. It takes place in the same moment of episode one of Mawdryn Undead as that fic.

Also, while this will usually be a separate series of one-shots from the Tea and Cricket series, don't be surprised if there are more crossovers between the two fics in the future.

* * *

For the most part, Turlough was surprised at how easy it had been so far.

Although he could tell that this "Guardian" had vast powers, Turlough hadn't been sure how he would get back home without involving the Trions who had exiled him on Earth. However, after being led to the transmat capsule and given what he needed to operate it, he wondered why he had been so worried. The ship he had landed on was more than sufficient to get him home.

He thought about heading for Trion then and there, but then the Guardian appeared and reminded him of their agreement. No, he would have to wait for now. It would give him time to better acquaint himself with the controls.

And time to fulfill his end of their bargain.

Turlough wandered around the ship until he found a battered police box in a corner of the ship which the Guardian had told him was the Doctor's ship. It was absurd to disguise a spacetime craft as a relic from Earth. But perhaps it was a way to fob off curious Earthlings. Sensible, really. Earthlings did have an annoying tendency to stick their noses into everything.

Although why the Doctor continued to keep it in this ridiculous disguise while out in space was a mystery to Turlough.

Turlough shook his head and took a deep breath as he approached the blue box. There was no point in trying to fathom the Doctor's motives. The Doctor was an evil creature who needed to be destroyed. At least, that was what he had been told. Truthfully, Turlough had questions about why the Guardian wanted him to be the one to destroy the Doctor, but they were easy to dismiss. Perhaps the Guardian wanted to avoid the Doctor's wrath and take advantage of the element of surprise. Or perhaps he did not want to upset any allies the Doctor may have.

Those thoughts did make Turlough more than a little worried about what might happen to him whether he succeeded in killing the Doctor or not. Then again, he figured he could still maneuver around whatever might happen. If he was successful, then the Guardian could help him sneak back home before anyone could find him. If he wasn't…he could always offer the Doctor the name of the person who hired him in the first place as a way to curb any possible retribution for his actions.

Turlough slipped inside, blinking in surprise at what he saw. The dimensions inside were much larger than he had expected. Perhaps this was also part of the camouflage of the ship.

Instead of dwelling on that thought, he headed straight for the console in the center of the room. He was able to discern some of the basic functions of the controls, but could also see that this technology was far beyond anything that had existed on Trion. Still, with some time and a little instruction, he was confident that he could work them well enough to get to where he wanted to go.

Turlough was so caught up in his study of the controls, he barely noticed a figure dashing into the room and skidding over to the controls across from him. It had to be the Doctor. The assured way this person was manipulating the buttons at his fingertips told him that.

For a moment, Turlough hesitated. This was the person he had been assigned to kill. This was the most malevolent force in the universe. And it was this person's death that would give him his freedom.

He took another deep breath and slowly lifted his head. Turlough had seen evil before. On the battlefields of Trion, in the faces of soldiers who fought and killed not for a cause, but for the thrill of it. At the school he was now forced to attend, on the faces of boys who were well on their way toward a life spent scheming and preying on others. He might have even seen a glint of it start to form in his own eyes, but Turlough tried to avoid thinking about that as much as possible.

Drawing from that experience, he steeled himself to face the Doctor…and was even more surprised than when he walked into that police box.

' _Is that…a cricketer's uniform? Yes…yes, it's older…like something I'd seen in a history book…but that must be what it is. And why is he wearing celery on his lapel?'_

Turlough had to struggle to keep his mouth from falling open. While the unconventional attire the man in front of him had on was a shock, it was the Doctor's eyes that truly caught Turlough's attention. They were blue, like his, albeit much darker. And where he had expected anger, annoyance or suspicion, there was only….curiosity.

"Who are you?" a calm inquisitive voice asked him.

Turlough blinked again. British, from the sound of it and with a quiet, questioning tone that was a perfect match for the look in his eyes.

Turlough was dumbfounded. The Doctor was supposed to be this terrible, destructive entity. But that's not what Turlough saw in front of him. No, this was just a harmless eccentric. An eccentric who was probably wondering by now why Turlough hadn't answered his question.

"I'm Turlough, sir," he said, making sure to smile. "I'm terribly glad to find you here. I was starting to think I was all alone."

He held out his hand which the Doctor immediately shook.

"Hello Turlough," he said with a trace of a smile. "I'm the Doctor. And don't worry. You're certainly not alone. And you're quite safe here in the TARDIS, and…. And by the way, how did you happen to end up here?"

Turlough froze. He hadn't expected the Doctor to be so warm and welcoming. He had had a set of potential lies ready to use, but none of them would work with someone who appeared to be in such a pleasant state of mind.

He would have to improvise.

"I was walking on the grounds of my school with my friend," he answered. "And then suddenly, this large, grey capsule appeared. Hippo…that's my friend….he was scared and ran off to find the Headmaster."

"But you weren't afraid?" the Doctor inquired. Turlough let out a sound that was somewhere between a chuckle and a noise of surprise.

"Well, it did startle me," he replied. "But it didn't seem like something that would harm me in any way, so I moved closer to get a better look at it. A door opened and I was curious so I went inside."

Turlough studied the Doctor while he talked, searching for any signs of doubt. He didn't see any, but Turlough knew that that didn't mean he could let down his guard.

"I'd never seen anything like it," he continued to lie. "I saw what looked like controls and I couldn't stop myself from trying a couple out to see what would happen. Next thing I knew, I ended up on this ship. I wandered around and found this police box. Well, you can imagine how surprised I was to find all of this in it."

"Indeed," the Doctor nodded.

Turlough's face fell slightly. He still couldn't get a definite read on this Doctor. And if it was that hard to figure out whether or not the Doctor believed his story, how would he be able to insinuate himself enough so he'd have a clear chance at killing him?

His unease only increased a moment later when the Doctor gave him another wide grin.

"Well, I'm afraid we're all in a bit of a spot right now," the Doctor told him. "And I could use your help. If you're up for it."

"Certainly," Turlough said, somewhat stunned that his story had worked. "What do you need me to do?"

The Doctor smiled again. "Well, for starters, you can…."

"Doctor? Doctor, are you in there?"

Turlough turned to see a pair of women rush into the TARDIS. The shorter one with long, curly hair took a step toward the Doctor.

"Doctor, what is….?"

The Doctor held up a hand. "Please hold that thought for just a moment, Nyssa," he said. He turned toward Turlough again. "This is Nyssa and Tegan. And…I'll be back in a second."

The Doctor sprinted out of the room while the two women moved closer to him.

"Hello, I'm Nyssa."

"And I'm Tegan Jovanka," the woman with the shorter, spikier hair said, her arms crossed over her chest.

"I'm pleased to meet you," Turlough said, once again, making sure to smile and keep his voice pleasant. He was about to introduce himself when the Doctor marched back into the room, a black and white case in his hand.

"This is Turlough," the Doctor announced with yet another smile. Turlough bowed his head slightly, but was concerned when he noticed the apprehensive looks on their faces. Their wariness did not diminish one bit even as he tried to pass himself off as a teenaged school boy who was completely bewildered by what had happened. Tegan seemed especially distrustful.

Turlough worried that they would interfere with his plan when, suddenly, the Doctor provided just the opportunity he needed by announcing that he was going back to Earth alone in the transmat capsule.

"May I come with you?" Turlough asked him.

The Doctor looked slightly confused, but not the least bit bothered by what must have seemed like a strange request. "You'd be safer in the TARDIS."

"Please!" Turlough insisted, desperate for his plan to work.

"All right. Why not?" the Doctor said breezily. He turned toward his companions. "See you on Earth."

Turlough rushed after the Doctor. He supposed that he could try killing him while they were still on the spaceship now that they were away from the women, but it still seemed too risky.

Besides, something the Doctor said was bothering him.

' _Why should he care if it's safer for me on the TARDIS or not? He doesn't even know me. And, clearly, he has other important things distracting him. So why does he bother?'_

Turlough felt an uncomfortable twinge deep inside. Throughout his exile on Earth, he had done everything he could to avoid being noticed. He didn't want the attention of Earthlings with their rudimentary knowledge and backward cultures. He kept to the fringes of life, only making himself noticed when he grew so bored, he could no longer stand it.

Most of all though, he was determined to avoid the pity and superficial concern he always got when they found out that he had no family and no connections to anyone other than the odd solicitor who kept track of him, a Trion agent who was in charge of monitoring his exile. They only showed care because it was their duty to or so they would be considered "good" by others in their society. It was easy to see that.

But Turlough knew that the tiny display of concern the Doctor had shown him was not that. The Doctor actually seemed to care if something untoward happened to him. And Turlough hated it. He hated that he'd been noticed. It would be so much easier to carry out this assassination if he wasn't. He hated the brief, wistful ache he had felt over the thought of someone looking after him out of compassion rather than obligation.

Far more than that though, Turlough hated the doubts that had been planted in his mind. Doubts that the Doctor was a monster who deserved to be murdered. Doubts that he'd be able to go through with killing him.

The doubts continued to worm their way into Turlough while he waited for the Doctor to send the transmat to Earth. He struggled to push them aside as he prepared himself to complete his mission. He wanted…no, needed to escape. When he had told the Guardian that he didn't entirely care if he lived if it meant staying on Earth, he had meant every word of it. If there was a chance, any chance of returning home to Trion, he had to take it. Even if he would only have a few moments to breathe its air and gaze upon the glorious sky he grew up under before he was executed for his crimes. It would still be worth it.

And that meant that the Doctor had to die.

Turlough glanced over at the energetic, friendly man who was only a couple feet away from him. He would make it quick. Quick and without warning. He didn't really know the Doctor, but Turlough was still certain that the Doctor did not deserve to suffer. Besides, he had never developed a taste for that kind of killing, not even when he was enmeshed in bitter combat with his family's enemies on Trion.

Turlough clenched his hands. He knew what he had to do. He just wasn't sure if his resolve to go through with it would last long enough to succeed.


	2. Reminder

Reminder

 **Author's Note:** This chapter takes place after the Big Finish audio play, Phantasmagoria.

* * *

Turlough let out a long sigh and leaned back in the chair that was sitting along the wall of the console room.

Looking back on his travels with the Doctor, he supposed that it was inevitable that this would happen. It was clear when he met the Doctor that this was something that was important to him, and that awareness only grew over time. Why else would he look the way he did? And if that wasn't enough of an indication for Turlough there were always the lectures. Or the trips to various time zones or even other planets on the edges of galaxies. Still, until this moment, there had always been ways to rein in this obsession of the Doctor's. To distract him from going too far with it. But this time, Turlough knew that there would be no escape.

Not when the Doctor could actually claim that a cricket almanac saved the world…or at the very least, the London of 1702.

"You see, Turlough," the Doctor said, running a hand lovingly over his almanac. "Good old Wisdens have some sterling properties."

"Such as acting as bait for an alien bent on destruction?" Turlough smirked. "Or as a hiding place for a biometric playing card? I don't know much about cricket, Doctor, but I'm willing to bet that 'good old Wisden' didn't have any of that in mind when he wrote that book."

"Perhaps not," the Doctor conceded. "But you do have to admit that it's a very useful tome. It got us out of a tight spot, anyway."

"I'm not sure what that proves," Turlough replied. "I recall being able to accomplish the same thing with a hat rack."

"The temporal circuits are acting up again," the Doctor said, abruptly changing the subject. "Do me a favor and get me the blue toolbox out of storage…and maybe the green one too. I might need some things out of it as well."

"Fine," Turlough shrugged as he got up. "And what shall I do while you're working on that?"

"I may need you for some of this repair work," the Doctor said. His brow crinkled slightly with his frown. "In the meantime, how about some interesting reading?"

He tossed the almanac over to Turlough who caught it and turned it around in his hands. As he suspected, there would be no avoiding the subject of cricket for a little while at least.

Turlough let out a huff and stuffed the book into his pocket while he walked down the corridor to fetch the toolboxes. Why did the Doctor get so caught up in all things cricket? The Doctor did say something about "wiling away eternity". Still, Turlough figured that someone with a time-space machine at his disposal could find much more interesting pursuits to occupy all those endless hours.

' _Well, there's also all the trouble he gets into,'_ Turlough thought with a smirk. _'That certainly takes up a lot of time.'_

He chuckled and went into the storage room, emerging a few seconds later with both toolboxes. After a brisk walk back to the console room, he found the Doctor still staring at the controls with a frown. Turlough sat the toolboxes by his feet and then went back to slump down in his chair.

"Thank you, Turlough," the Doctor finally said before plopping down onto the floor and shoving both toolboxes under the console. Then he laid down and removed one of the panels.

Turlough nodded and pulled out his book so he could thumb through it. Truthfully, he knew it wouldn't be too hard for him to grasp the basics of cricket, but it did seem like it was a game that had been given needless complications in order to make it appear more significant than it really was.

' _Typical humans,'_ Turlough mused with a slight snort. Then again, he knew that if he was honest with himself, he could find examples of that kind of behavior on many of the other planets he had visited. Including Trion.

"You seemed to get along well with the locals," the Doctor said, breaking his train of thought. Turlough looked over to see him laying in a mess of wires on the floor.

Turlough shrugged and sat the book down on the edge of the chair. "They were all right. For Earthlings."

"They were men of their time," the Doctor said. "Oh, and could you hand me that device over there near my foot? The one with the blue lights on each end?"

Turlough got up and grabbed the object in question. He crouched down to hand it to the Doctor.

"They were that," he nodded. "So wrapped up in their gossip and social standing and all that sort of nonsense. But still…."

"Still?" the Doctor said, pausing in his work.

Turlough shrugged again. "They were decent people. Friendly. They took care of me after a carriage almost ran me down."

The Doctor scooted out from under the console to get a better look at him. "A carriage? You didn't mention that. Turlough, are you sure you're…?"

"Yes, I'm all right," Turlough said with a dismissive flick of his hand.

"Yes, well, in the future, you will make sure to tell me about these things," the Doctor tutted before sliding back closer to the base of the console.

Turlough nodded again, unsure of how closely he would follow that instruction. Still, as annoying as the Doctor could be when fussing over him, he couldn't deny that he was touched that the Doctor cared about him as much as he did.

"By the way, how did you happen to almost get run down by a carriage?" the Doctor asked, his voice slightly garbled by the tool he was currently holding in his teeth. "Was it because you were running away? You never did tell me what you were running from that first night at Holywell's."

Turlough snorted. "I'm Turlough. Since when do I need a reason to run away?"

He regretted saying that as soon as the words left his lips. Mainly because of how the Doctor stopped what he was doing again and looked at him.

"I've never known you to be someone who ran without a reason," the Doctor said quietly.

Turlough let out another long sigh and sat himself down onto the floor. Much like those times when the Doctor let his cricket obsession take over, he knew that there was no avoiding this conversation either.

"That method Valentine used to track down his victims. There was something about it. I don't know how to explain it with words other than it felt…evil."

"Evil?" the Doctor said. He pushed himself out from under the console and sat up to face Turlough.

"Not in the same way that Jasper or Holywell felt about it," Turlough continued. "They probably thought it was evil because they didn't know what it was."

"But you did?" the Doctor asked as he folded his legs in front of him.

"Not really, no," Turlough replied. He sighed again, unsure he could make the Doctor understand. "What I mean is that I wasn't afraid because it was unknown and strange. It was…it was as if I just knew that it was evil. That it was being used by an evil being for terrible purposes."

"I see," the Doctor responded.

Turlough frowned. The look on the Doctor's face was a familiar one: curiosity mixed with concern and a touch of giddiness over finding some new puzzle to solve. Turlough knew that the Doctor meant well, but that didn't completely erase the unease he felt toward that expression.

"Turlough, are your people psychically sensitive as a rule?"

Turlough frown again, his brows furrowing. Although this time it wasn't due to discomfort. "No. No I don't think so. That is…I'm sure any of us would notice a direct psychic assault, but…."

"But they don't tend to have empathetic or telepathic responses to psychic phenomenon," the Doctor finished for him. "And yet this isn't the first time you've encountered this sort of energy. You've had experience with it before."

The Doctor didn't say it out loud, probably in an effort to be kind, but Turlough knew what he was talking about. The Black Guardian. The poisonous voice in his head that had tormented him for weeks and that had come so close to destroying him.

"I suppose I have a knack for picking up on that sort of thing," he said with a short, brittle laugh.

"Only because you appear to be more perceptive to these energies than others of your species," the Doctor said. "Psychic sensitivity is nothing to be ashamed of, Turlough."

"I imagine you'd say it's a gift," Turlough huffed.

"It can be," the Doctor nodded again. "Especially with proper training to help manage it. But I would be lying if I denied that it can also make you more vulnerable to beings who can exploit it for their own purposes."

Turlough nodded back to show that he understood, not trusting himself to speak at that moment. He loathed thinking of himself as being vulnerable, but there was no escaping it.

"I can help you find ways to defend yourself," the Doctor said, his voice becoming gentle. "But in order to do that you will need to do two things. First, you must learn to overcome your fear."

"Well, that leaves me out then," Turlough sighed.

The look of quiet resolve on the Doctor's face did not falter in the least. "I already know that you can conquer your fear while controlling your mind, Turlough. As do you. Think back to when you and I and Tegan encountered the Eternals. You found a way to block them from discerning your true intentions."

Turlough opened his mouth to protest, but immediately stopped when he remembered Captain Wrack's words to describe his mind: confused, divided, devious and most of all, greedy. The last thing he wanted to do was confess to the Doctor that he had avoided the Eternals' probing by remaining focused on duplicitous, manipulative lines of thought which were given a thin sheen of rationality.

"Turlough, however you accomplished it, the fact remained that you managed to put aside your fear and prevented them from digging too deeply into your mind," the Doctor said.

Turlough blinked. It was always a little unnerving when the Doctor seemed to read his mind like that, but right now, he was too distracted by what the Doctor was saying to be upset about it.

"Although, some methods can be less pleasant to use than others," the Doctor continued. "I can teach you ones that will be easier to cope with. Which leads me to the other thing I need you to do."

"Which is?"

The Doctor leaned toward him. "I need you to trust me."

Turlough swallowed hard, barely able to muffle the gulp he made. Bravery in the face of danger was actually far easier to accomplish than trusting another person. Before he met the Doctor, he hadn't truly trusted anyone for so long; it had become an ingrained habit.

Despite that, Turlough could acknowledge that he trusted the Doctor more than just about anyone else he had ever known. It felt strange and somewhat frightening to think this way, but he was certain that he was willing to place his life in the Doctor's hands whenever it was necessary.

At the same time though, the camaraderie that enabled Turlough to place so much faith in the Doctor was the same reason why he could not bring himself to reveal any more about himself and his past than he absolutely needed to. What would the Doctor think of him if he knew everything? Turlough couldn't believe that it would be anything good and that could ruin the friendship they had built.

No, the Doctor's friendship was a price he was unwilling to pay under just about any circumstance. If that meant keeping himself hidden away and never receiving the Doctor's help to heal the wounds of his past or defend himself against attacks on his psyche in the future, Turlough was more than willing to accept it.

"Whenever you are ready for it," the Doctor added. Turlough nodded, ducking his head down as he did it.

"Thank you," he mumbled. He hoped that the Doctor understood what he was thanking him for, but was comforted by the idea that the Doctor usually discerned the subtexts in their conversations.

"Now then, let's get back to work, shall we?" the Doctor said with a cheerful smile. "The sooner we get these repairs done, the sooner I can take you to one of the greatest cricket matches that was ever…."

"Doctor, please, think about every other time you tried to take me or Nyssa or Tegan to 'one of the greatest cricket matches ever played'," Turlough interrupted. "About what tends to happen."

"Yes. Yes, you do have a point there," the Doctor mused. "Then how about something more adventurous? It's been a while since I've visited the pharaohs or Egypt."

"Earth again?" Turlough frowned. "Do we have to, Doctor?"

A brief flicker of hurt appeared in the Doctor's eyes, but it vanished in an instant. "Very well. Then perhaps something a little more out of the way." The Doctor's eyes lit up again. "Like Space Station Xalrius. It's a fascinating place on the edge of galaxy. It's powered by the gravitational energy generated by a comet which has become trapped in an orbit around the station. And it has some of the best views of its neighboring solar system around."

"As long as there isn't going to be a cricket match, I'm game," Turlough replied. "That is…well, you know what I mean."

"Turlough, I often think that Tegan had more of an influence on you than you realize," the Doctor frowned. "You sound more and more like her all the time."

"Now you're just trying to insult me," Turlough smirked. "And that's not vey cricket either, is it Doctor?"

The Doctor gave him a stern look which was accompanied by a twinkle in his eyes that Turlough immediately picked up on. He snickered at as he moved closer to the console to start helping with the repairs.


	3. Endgame

Endgame

 **Author's Note** : This chapter takes place toward the end of episode three of Enlightenment.

* * *

Turlough stared at the floor and let out a shaky sigh. By now, he was used to the Doctor making what he considered to be unreasonable and foolhardy requests, but this still felt like too much. Sure, he could understand why the Doctor wanted to stay here. Even a few moments away from the Eternals were a relief. Turlough found himself increasingly stressed and exhausted from his efforts to prevent Wrack and her crew from delving too deeply into his mind.

Still that didn't mean he wanted to stick around a room with easy access to the vacuum of space. A room he almost died in.

Turlough shuddered. Even though he had chosen to jump over the side of Striker's ship, he hadn't wanted to die here. Not that way. Jumping off the ship meant a swift death by suffocation. Still scary, but not the worst death Turlough could imagine.

Nevertheless, there had been one moment, one brief moment, when even letting himself be blown into space seemed preferable to the existence he had now. It wasn't until he felt the strong tug pulling at his legs that the fear and his strong streak of self-preservation won out. Although that also meant prolonging the horror he felt in the face of his own death. Still, Turlough wasn't sure if dying or continuing to live as a pawn of the Black Guardian was worse, and when he had screamed for the Black Guardian's help, his desire to be saved and his pleading for a quick, painless death kept blending together.

He'd been even more confused when he started to call for the Doctor instead. Turlough didn't know what the Doctor would or even could do for him. All Turlough knew was that the Doctor was his only chance. For life, for death, for any sort of release from the fear and pain that was consuming him.

Turlough shuddered again. He didn't want to stay in this place for a moment longer. Staying here reminded him of the doom that was closing in on him. Besides, he'd probably get another reminder of that before too long from the Black Guardian. His fingers absent-mindedly brushed over the crystal in his pocket.

He looked over at the Doctor and clenched his hands. Why did the Doctor always persist even when faced with impossible odds? The Eternals' abilities were far beyond that of Time Lords. They had already taken the TARDIS away, leaving them stranded and helpless. And yet, Turlough knew that, whatever the Doctor was planning, none of it involved finding the TARDIS and escaping.

"What do you want to do?" he asked, still hoping that the Doctor had some idea that could get them out of this mess.

"I must find a way of staying on this ship," the Doctor said, his voice slow and distracted.

So not trying to escape. Of course. And why should it be surprising that, instead of finding a way to do the sensible thing…getting as far away from the Eternals as possible…the Doctor was trying to work out a way to do one of the most dangerous things possible at this moment?

"Why?" Turlough said, not carrying how strained his voice sounded. Granted, it would be the Doctor sticking out his neck this time, not him. However, Turlough felt his anxiety spike all the same.

That sensation made him go back to that same question in his own mind: why? Why did he care if the Doctor risked his own life? Or if Wrack destroyed him? If something happened to the Doctor, Turlough knew that there was a chance that he'd given his freedom from the Black Guardian. Granted, it was also likely that he'd be stuck in the middle of space, but at least it wouldn't be Brighton. He could still find a way home…that is, as long as the Eternals didn't decide that they were better off disposing of him. Or as long as Tegan didn't decide to take out her frustrations onto him over the Doctor dying.

Still, the prospect of escaping the Eternals, the Black Guardian and even Brighton did not seem as appealing to him as it should. Not if it meant that the Doctor would be dead.

"To stop Wrack from winning," the Doctor answered him.

Once again, Turlough wasn't surprised by this. Whatever this mission was that the White Guardian had given him, the Doctor had clearly taken it to heart that it was important.

' _It's hopeless,'_ Turlough thought, despair creeping into him again. Someone as earnest and good-hearted as the Doctor would bore Wrack in no time at all. Then she would amuse herself by toying with the Doctor. Perhaps she would even try out some of those torture techniques Wrack had discussed with him earlier.

' _No!'_

Turlough nearly gasped. Where had that sudden burst of determination come from? Why did the possibility of any harm coming to the Doctor upset him so much? He had agreed to kill him at one point. He had tried more than once to separate the Doctor from his TARDIS which left him vulnerable to his enemies. How would leaving the Doctor's fate up to Wrack be any different than what he had already done?

' _Because….'_

Because now the Doctor mattered to him. Because now Turlough could no longer avoid seeing what had been in front of him for a long time.

Turlough thought back to when the Doctor had found him in this room. The terror and desperation he felt while screaming for the Doctor's help were still fresh in his mind. Pain had been jolting through his head as the Black Guardian laughed at his distress.

Then there was the immense relief he felt when the Doctor opened the door.

Turlough sighed. At first, the Doctor had looked angry, and he'd been nervous that there would be more punishments for all the mistakes he had made. Instead, the Doctor spoke to him softly, even placing a gentle hand onto his back at one point to help calm him. He distracted Turlough from his fear by talking through what they had each learned so far.

The Doctor had saved him. Taken care of him. And Turlough was painfully aware that this hadn't been the first time.

* * *

 _Not long after they had left Earth, Turlough began to have trouble sleeping. The Black Guardian was always in his head and it was worse whenever he was alone. There were taunts, demands and "reminders" of what would happen if he didn't go through with their agreement. Even when he could sleep, there were countless nightmares: memories of war on Trion, of watching friends and family die, of having to kill others. Memories of Earth, of the loneliness and crushing boredom he felt, of the stress of trying to fit in and the consequences when his efforts failed._

 _It meant that Turlough struggled to get through the days. Keeping his eyes open and making pleasant, coherent conversation were as taxing as running from the latest monster chasing them._

 _One day, Turlough had been sitting at the table in the TARDIS' kitchen, trying to rub away the pounding in his temples. He hadn't even heard the Doctor until he had sat down across from him. With a smile, the Doctor placed two objects in front of him._

" _What…?"_

" _You've seemed exhausted of late and I thought that you might be having trouble sleeping," the Doctor said. "Place this crystal into your hand for a minute before sitting it next to your bed. The vibrations it will produce are known for having a calming effect on the mind."_

" _And this?" Turlough said, pointing at the cup._

" _Chamomile tea. An Earth remedy and a good one. Wonderful to help relax the body for sleeping." The Doctor stood up and patted Turlough's shoulder. "I'll be doing some maintenance for a while before we land again. Try to get some rest."_

* * *

Unfortunately, Turlough had only been able to get a few extra hours of slumber here and there with the Doctor's remedies, but they had helped. At least a little.

Turlough might have been able to chalk up the Doctor's actions to basic politeness. That is until the aftermath of what had happened on Terminus.

* * *

 _After the Black Guardian had finished punishing him for his failures, Turlough had been unable to move or even think. Unconsciousness had not taken the pain away. It had only dulled it for short while. At one point, Turlough was certain that he was going to die._

 _Then he was horrified to find out that he was going to live after all._

 _The Black Guardian woke him up to urge him to try again to kill the Doctor. But even fear over what might happen to him if he disobeyed was not enough to make battered limbs move, to stop his nerves from feeling as if they were on fire, or to make his mind stop feeling as if it had been flayed layer by layer long enough to come up with a plan._

 _All he could do was pass out again and hope he never woke up._

 _When Turlough finally did start to come to, it was to someone calling his name again. He had panicked and had cried out as he started to squirm away from the sound, but then he recognized the calm voice speaking to him._

" _Turlough? Turlough, it's all right. I'm here."_

 _Turlough slowly pried his eyes open to see a familiar face, which was full of concern, looking down at him._

" _Doctor….?"_

" _Yes. It's me, Turlough," the Doctor said with a smile. "Lie still for now and try to relax. From what I can tell, you've had a very nasty shock."_

 _Turlough slowly turned his head back and forth. He was in the TARDIS sick bay, lying on one of the beds while the Doctor stood at his bedside and waved some instrument he didn't recognize over him. He couldn't remember walking here and was soon mortified when he realized that the Doctor had probably carried him here._

 _Less than a minute later, the Doctor stopped and studied the instrument in his hand for several seconds while frowning before speaking again._

" _You seem to be all right. No permanent damage anyway. How do you feel?"_

 _Turlough had almost let out a short laugh. He considered trying to come up with a sarcastic remark, but his mood was too low for his usual humor._

" _Everything hurts," he said quietly in a rare moment of complete honesty._

 _The Doctor pulled up a chair, sat down beside him, and placed a hand onto one of his. "Tegan mentioned that you had received some kind of electrical shock while on Terminus. Is it possible that it affected you more than you might have originally thought?"_

" _I, I don't know."_

 _That wasn't entirely a lie. Turlough was certain that the punishment the Black Guardian had inflicted on him was the source of most of the damage, but what exactly had been done to him and if the shock he had received earlier was contributing to the pain he felt now was unknown to Turlough._

 _The Doctor gave his hand a light squeeze and stood up. "All right. Stay here and rest. I'll be back later to check on you and…."_

" _Doctor!"_

 _The Doctor paused. "Yes? What is it?"_

 _Turlough heard the words he wanted to say in his mind. He wanted to thank the Doctor. To ask if he really was going to be all right. To beg the Doctor to stay and not leave him open to more torment from the Black Guardian. He could hear all of that in his head, but could not work up the courage to say a single word of it._

 _Fortunately, he didn't have to say anything at all._

" _All right," the Doctor said, sitting back down. "Try to get some rest."_

 _And Turlough did. For the first time in what seemed like forever, he had gotten a fully cycle of sleep. And when he woke up, the Doctor was still there._

* * *

Turlough's mind snapped back to the present. Back to where he and the Doctor were on Wrack's ship and the Doctor was formulating some suicidal plan to stay here.

It was ridiculous. Hopeless. Turlough was as certain of that as he was the reality of life and the finality of death.

Turlough tried hard to convince himself that that certainty was what finally pushed him to act.

"Let me stay," he insisted. He saw doubt flicker on the Doctor's face. It stung, but Turlough knew he deserved it. "Or don't you trust me yet?"

A trace of a smile appeared on the Doctor's face, one that almost seemed to be tinged with…regret?

"You couldn't cope," the Doctor answered. "These creatures have vast powers. That's why none of them must win. To achieve further power would be a disaster."

Turlough sighed inwardly yet again. He was all too aware of the Eternals' vast powers. He didn't need the Doctor reminding him. Then again, Turlough figured that the Doctor was simply trying to find a kind way of saying what Turlough already knew: the Doctor didn't trust him after all. Why should he really? Turlough knew he hadn't done a single thing to earn any sort of trust.

His dismay over the Doctor's lack of trust was brushed aside when it finally sank in that the Doctor intended to try to stop all of the Eternals, not just Captain Wrack.

"But the other ships…you can't stop all of them!"

"We can but try," the Doctor said with a wry smile on his lips.

Turlough gaped at him. The Doctor was mad. Had to be. Only a mad man would think he could outwit and overpower a whole group of Eternals bent on gaining even more power.

He was about to reply to that when, suddenly, the Doctor was seized by Wrack's crew and a sword was pressed against the Time Lord's exposed throat.

Turlough swallowed hard. That sight reminded him far too much of the death of his mother. A weapon had been held to her head and she had glared at her executioner right up to the moment when she was put to death. A moment Turlough had been forced to watch.

And now, another person he cared about…yes, cared about…would be killed right in front of him.

In that moment, everything had become clear to Turlough. He was doomed, just as the Black Guardian had said. Acceptance of this fact finally took root in his soul. As much as he longed to survive, escape and be free, Turlough understood now that that would not be his fate. He would be destroyed. It was only a question of when and which hand would be the one to carry out that task.

' _But the Doctor….'_

Turlough felt an ache deep inside him. The Doctor had been the first person in such a long time to actually show him compassion and understanding. Not since before the war on Trion had Turlough felt the comfort of someone being truly concerned about his wellbeing without any obligations or expectations attached.

Grim determination began to still Turlough's quaking insides. Somehow, he'd been given another chance and he could not waste it. He'd been unable to save the people he cared for most during the war, but now he could save someone else who was important to him. From the Eternals. Maybe even from the Black Guardian.

No matter what it cost, he would make sure that the Doctor would be spared. Maybe it wouldn't make up for all the terrible things he had done up to now.

Still, Turlough knew that it would make for a better end than what he deserved.


	4. Battle Remnants

Battle Remnants

 **Author's Note:** This chapter takes place right after Warriors of the Deep. It also has a sequel chapter in chapter four of my Tea and Cricket fic.

* * *

It was days like today when Turlough wondered why the Doctor enjoyed traveling through time and space.

He hadn't been looking forward to going to Earth yet again in the first place. With an entire universe out there to explore, Turlough couldn't understand why the Doctor and Tegan insisted on coming back to that backward little planet over and over again. Still, Turlough figured he could grin and bear it for Tegan's sake. Besides, being with the Doctor, there was a guarantee that it wouldn't be as boring and tedious as when he was stuck at Brendon.

Unfortunately, what started out as a mild annoyance spiraled into panic as they faced yet another fight for their lives. With a weapons satellite trying to shoot them down from space and then packs of security guards chasing them around the sea base. And that was before the Silurians and Sea Devils showed up. It was little wonder that even the Doctor had armed himself for much of their adventure.

Still, it was obvious to Turlough that the Doctor was uncomfortable with the aggressive methods he had had to employ. It was a disgust which reached its peak when he was forced to use the hexachromite gas to stop the annihilation of the human race. It was a noble goal, Turlough figured, but the numerous corpses lying about the sea base were a stark reminder of how costly such a noble goal can be.

Turlough leaned back in his chair in the kitchen and shuddered. That sight reminded him too much of the war on Trion. Of his days spent in the Imperial Forces trying to restore order and tradition. When it was over and he was captured, Turlough made a vow to himself. If he did manage to survive the punishments that the new government had in store for him, he would never be a solider again. Not for Trion. Not for anything.

As he thought about that promise he had made, Turlough let out a bitter chuckle. It was why he had refused to have anything to do with the CCF while he was at Brendon. Turlough was certain that his teachers and perhaps even the headmaster had thought that his refusal was because he was a coward. He didn't mind that. He was a coward after all. They didn't need to know that a large part of it was because he could probably injure or even kill his fellow classmates if he had actually put the training he had received to serious use.

Another part of it was that Turlough didn't see any point to playing solider. Let the people who had no idea about the real horrors of war, who had no idea what it was like to have blood on their hands, do it. That part of his life was closed forever.

Until today when it wasn't.

The smirk on Turlough's lips faded. If someone had told him that he would willingly become a soldier again, he would have thought that they were mad. Or intentionally stupid. Nevertheless, when he heard Myrka roaring behind the bulkhead door and thought about the Doctor and Tegan trapped in there with it, something inside Turlough twisted. In that moment, he stopped being Turlough, political prisoner, professional coward, and exile hiding among humans. He went back to being Junior Ensign Commander Vislor Turlough, elite member of the Imperial Clans of Trion.

And just like back then, the people who were dearest to him were being threatened with death.

In an instant, Turlough's training came back to him. Disarming the human restraining him, ruthlessly demanding that his orders be followed, and cutting down any enemies who fired at him became natural to him again.

Fight, stay alive and protect the people he belonged to. Those were the only imperatives that mattered in battle. It helped him survive, but the truth was, it sickened him too. Probably in much the same way as it did the Doctor. The only difference between them was that Turlough knew he could be pragmatic about it and keep most of the disgust and regret at bay. Most of it.

The one thing that aided the most with that was the knowledge that he would make the same choice if he had the chance to do things over again. So much for the oath he had made to himself. Turlough felt irritated and disappointed that he had broken it.

Then again, it wasn't entirely his own doing. The Doctor had that effect on him. The fact was, Turlough found himself doing a lot of things he hadn't done for a long time or ever since he had joined the Doctor in his travels. He was being changed. Probably into a "good" person although he wasn't entirely sure what that was in regards to himself or if it was for the best.

"You going to drink that tea or just stare at it?"

Turlough briefly closed his eyes and let out an exaggerated sigh. Tegan. She had a habit of appearing at less than desirable times.

He took a long sip of his tea, grimacing at how cold and bitter it was. How appropriate right now. Tegan simply scowled at him.

"I could make you some fresh tea," she said. "Or you can just keep drinking that and suffer."

"As opposed to drinking your tea and suffering?" Turlough smirked at her. "Perhaps I'd rather endure suffering of my own making."

"Suit yourself," Tegan said, her glare intensifying. It wasn't much, but Turlough considered it a win when he was able to be the one with the last bit of snark in a conversation with her.

Tegan worked silently as she got the tea kettle going, prepared the infuser, and got out the rest of the tea setting. For a few moments, Turlough began to think that that would be the end of it.

"You seemed pretty comfortable with a gun in your hands."

Turlough frowned at glanced up to see Tegan studying him, her arms crossed over her chest. He knew that look. That was her I-don't-trust-you-and-here-are-the-reasons-why look.

He sat up straighter in his chair, making sure to look her in the eye. "It's a good thing that I am as it turns out. Or maybe I wouldn't have been able to save your life. More than once, I might add."

Tegan scowled some more. Turlough could already tell that, while that comment had slowed her down, it wasn't going to put a halt to whatever agenda she had in mind for this discussion.

"You didn't actually shoot anyone to get the Doctor and me away from that Myrka thing," she said with what Turlough thought was a surprising amount of confidence considering how there was no way she could know that for sure. "And you were plenty ready to run and save your own hide and leave the Doctor behind."

"And yet, I didn't, did I?"

"Not from lack of trying. You would have scampered off in the TARDIS if you thought you could get away with it."

Now it was Turlough's turn to glare. "And what do you think I should have done? Turned myself in to the guards at the first opportunity? Or maybe you would have preferred that I'd thrown myself in front of one of the Earthlings so they could live about two seconds longer before the Sea Devils killed them anyway?"

"Or you could consider checking to see if the Doctor or I are still alive before running off to save your own skin," Tegan snapped back.

Turlough's frowned deepened. He couldn't be sure about Tegan, but he knew the Doctor well enough to know how he would respond if either of them threw their lives away under the guise of "doing something". The Doctor would hate it. He would panic and do whatever he could to prevent it…even if it cost him his own life.

He bit back a sigh. The way he saw it, part of the Doctor trusting them as his friends and companions meant being certain that they would look after themselves and avoid pointless suicidal actions. It was probably part of what kept the Doctor alive: the knowledge that he could focus on getting out of his own scrapes and solving the underlying problems at hand rather than constantly splitting his attention to protect them. Why couldn't Tegan see it that way?

"Is that what this is about?" he said. "You're going to yell at me about the things I didn't actually do because of what might have happened even though it didn't?"

Tegan paused and Turlough could actually see on her face how she was working out what he had just said so she could come up with a sarcastic response to it. This conversation could almost be amusing if it weren't for that fact that Tegan seemed to be deliberately poking at some of the few soft spots he had.

"I just want to know that we can trust you," she finally said.

Turlough let out a dramatic sigh. "That again? I've already told you that I never really wanted to work for the Black Guardian in the first…."

"Yeah, yeah, you've said that," Tegan interrupted. "But that was before."

"Before?"

Tegan took a deep breath. "Before we found out more about you. Before we saw how you can handle a weapon. When we thought you were just some misguided fool who…."

"Thank you for that, really," Turlough said with a snort. "It's nice to know that I've been upgraded to 'misguided fool' from 'coldblooded murderer'."

"When we thought you were just some misguided fool who'd gotten in over his head," Tegan persisted. "But now we know different, don't we? You running about with that gun in your hands like you've done it all before. Because you have, haven't you?"

Turlough took another slurp of his cold tea. This time, he didn't even notice the taste. "And what if I have? Does it matter?"

"You know it does," Tegan shot back. "It means you probably know what it's like to kill someone."

"Kill maybe, but not murder," Turlough said, his tone tightly wound. "There is a difference."

"I don't see one," Tegan retorted.

"Don't you?" Turlough said with a laugh meant to disguise his rising temper. "Or do you go up to every solider you see and call them a murderer too?"

The kettle let out a loud whistle causing both of them to jump slightly. Tegan whirled around and quietly busied herself with finishing up the tea and arranging everything onto a tray. After she finished, she carried it over to the table and sat it down in the middle before sitting down. Turlough noted that she had added a plate of biscuits to the tray.

And that there were two cups.

"It wasn't by choice, was it?" she said softly, looking down at her cup while she poured. "Being a solider?"

"It often isn't," Turlough said, his tone still grim. He gulped down the rest of his tea, wincing as he did it. "And I never actually said I was a soldier."

"Fine, have it your way," Tegan said with a sigh of her own. "Keep playing your little games."

She placed a clean cup in front of Turlough and poured some of her tea into it. "I know you never have milk. Want any sugar?"

Turlough blinked in surprise. "No, I…not this time. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Tegan said, raising her cup to her lips.

Turlough also took a sip. Tegan had definitely improved in her tea making skills. He figured that the Doctor had had a hand in that. As he sipped, Turlough felt some of pique dissipate. He still did not want to talk about his past, but he didn't feel like being antagonistic any more either.

"It hadn't been by choice, no," he said. "For many reasons."

Tegan nodded. "Did you…did you see a lot of combat?"

Turlough snorted again. "You mean, did I kill a lot of people? That's what you're really asking, isn't it? Why? Does the number matter?"

"No, I suppose it doesn't," Tegan said, looking down into her cup. "Not when you answer it that way."

"What do you mean?"

Tegan took another sip before answering. "Because however many it was…it still bothers you."

Turlough had to work hard to resist the urge to gape at her. That was not a response he had expected from Tegan of all people. He suddenly wondered if it was possible that the Doctor would also be as understanding.

"Look, Turlough, I'm grateful that you saved our lives," Tegan said, still looking downward. "You did stick your neck out for us and we wouldn't be here if you hadn't. I guess…I guess I thought I knew the kind of person you were when you made that deal with the Black Guardian. Now I'm finding out that you were someone else all along."

"Someone you can't trust?" Turlough asked, genuinely curious.

"I don't know," Tegan answered. "And I guess that's what's really bothering me."

Turlough nodded. He thought that Tegan was frequently irrational, but what she just said made a lot of sense to him. Not that it meant that he enjoyed being on the receiving end of her trust issues.

"I'm not going to try to kill the Doctor," he said, his voice sincere. "Or you. If that helps."

Tegan snickered and looked up at him. "You wouldn't have a prayer with me, you drongo. I'd snapped you in half." Suddenly, her expression became more serious again. "And…and I know that you care about the Doctor. In your own weird, twisted way, I'm sure."

Turlough smirked at her again although there was no irritation in it. If only she knew how odd it felt to him as well. To have someone in his life again who trusted him, despite knowing him beyond the façade and who Turlough felt he could trust implicitly. Someone he felt proud to call a friend and whose friendship he was honored to have in return.

"And it's a good thing too," Tegan continued, exasperation creeping back into her voice. "With all the trouble the Doctor gets into, it's a full time job to look after him. I could use the help."

Turlough laughed. "He does seem to have a penchant for it." Thoughts about the Doctor and their recent troubles caused his smile to falter. "Those burns on his face didn't seem too serious. I was able to heal them with that dermal repair unit you showed me. But did he seem a little…off to you? Attaching his mind to that computer had to have been a strain."

"That's what I'm worried about," Tegan said. "You weren't here when he regenerated to…what he's like now. It went badly, and he almost died. And he kept talking about trying to heal from neural damage while he was recovering."

"And yet he thought it would be a sensible to try to link his brain into an unsophisticated weapons system and try to short circuit it?" Turlough snapped. He surprised himself with the anger that had seeped into his voice, but Tegan didn't seem to notice it.

"Since when has the Doctor ever done anything even remotely sensible?" Tegan said, shaking her head. "The man is hopeless. Completely unreliable."

Despite his concern, Turlough chuckled and found himself enjoying it when Tegan joined in.

"No…I must...Tegan…Turlough….!"

Both Tegan and Turlough immediately stopped laughing. The panic in the Doctor's voice was obvious, causing them to jump up from their chairs and race toward the console room.

As he ran, in the back of his mind, Turlough couldn't help but notice how, once again, he was readying himself to do whatever was needed to help the Doctor. It still felt strange, to live life again thinking of someone else as much as himself. Turlough wasn't always sure that he enjoyed it.

Then again, he didn't want it to end any time soon, either.


	5. Should Auld Acquaintance, part one

Should Auld Acquaintance Be Forgot

 **Author's Note:** I wrote the next two chapters as holiday fics at one point, but I think they work at any time of the year. :)

These two chapters take place after the Big Finish audio play Kiss Of Death and features an older Nyssa who has rejoined the TARDIS crew of Five, Tegan and Turlough.

* * *

"Tegan, this is the seventh time I've moved these lights around."

"Hold still, will ya? I need to double check to make sure that they look right with the rest of the strands."

"Wouldn't it have been better to have planned where you wanted these lights before you had me start helping you with this ridiculous chore?"

"Oh come on, Turlough. You don't plan out Christmas decorations. You just start filling spaces and go from there. That's half the fun."

"Fun for you, perhaps. But then, you're not the one standing on a chair having to rearrange strings of lights over and over again."

"Yeah, yeah….ok, I think we're done with the lights."

"Finally."

"Now we can put up these wreaths."

"Tegan…."

Standing near the entrance of the console room, Nyssa watched the scene in front of her with a smile on her face.

Yesterday, after a surprisingly uneventful visit to the temple of Barl to see the legendary chants of the priestesses who resided there; Tegan had mentioned that the singing had reminded her of Christmas. The Doctor immediately latched onto this idea.

" _Well, Tegan, it's always Christmas somewhere in time and space. How about we find one of our own?"_

Both Tegan and Nyssa had thought it would be a fine idea having enjoyed the Christmas celebrations they had had together on the TARDIS before. To Nyssa, it felt like a good opportunity to remember her father and the family she had gained many years later.

The only person who had seemed less than enthused by the idea was Turlough. Although, instead of his usual responses of grumbling or sarcastic remarks, Turlough had simply shrugged and gone off to his room to spend time alone. An activity that he had been doing more and more these days ever since their adventure that took them to the wintery planet that had belonged to Turlough's family.

Ever since Deela.

Nyssa shook her head. None of them had been surprised when Turlough had become withdrawn after what happened with Deela. They all knew it had been a terrible blow to him. At first, they had decided to give Turlough space so he could sort through his feelings on his own.

The problem was, Turlough only seemed to be retreating further and further into a shell of apathy and silence. There was no polite conversation with Nyssa, no sniping with Tegan or pointed comments about how often they landed on Earth. Not even the usual in-depth discussion and technical talk that he shared with the Doctor while working on TARDIS maintenance. In fact, Turlough hardly said a word at all, only speaking when spoken to. It wasn't long before they also realized that he was barely eating and that the exhaustion in his eyes was probably due to his getting little rest as well.

"Tegan, what possible reason is there for putting up this many decorations?"

"To look festive. Honestly, Turlough, didn't you learn anything about Christmas when you were at Brendon?"

"Unfortunately, yes. But, strangely enough, it never seemed to involve covering every square centimeter with gaudy trinkets."

Nyssa put a hand to her mouth to stifle the giggle that had risen to her lips. Much like the Doctor, she usually wasn't a fan of Tegan and Turlough's quarreling, but this didn't feel like quarreling as much as good-natured ribbing. After how desolate Turlough had been of late, it was a relief to see him regain some semblance of his usual self.

Still, she also noticed a brittle edge to Turlough's tone that wasn't usually there and had seen how wearily he moved while putting up the decorations. It was clear to her that they may have succeeded in pulling Turlough out of his melancholy for the moment, but it wasn't likely to last.

"Hey Nyssa, could you see if the Doctor's got any more decorations in that store room?" Tegan called out to her. "Oh and we need some more of that adhesive too. This stuff works great for decorations."

"Yes, perhaps you should try using it yourself sometime," Turlough said with a frown as he fastened another wreath into place.

"I'll check," Nyssa nodded before walking down the corridor. She stopped by the room she shared with Tegan to get another vial of the adhesive she had stored with her tools. Then she headed off for a storeroom that was further down the corridor so she could search through some cardboard boxes in the corner.

Earlier that day, they had landed in the merchant city of Karias. Each of them had spent a short time shopping for gifts. Even Turlough, although it had taken a lot of persuasion on the Doctor's part to get him to do it. The Doctor decided to go last and had left hours ago to visit some old friends before shopping.

Nyssa found some stockings which she recognized as ones they had used before. Before Turlough had joined them. Before she had stayed behind on Terminus. Back when Adric was still with them.

Thoughts of Adric made her mind drift toward thoughts of her own family. Of her husband and her children. She hoped that they were well. Nyssa imagined that some time will have passed when the Doctor finally helped her back to her proper place in her time line. She just hoped that they wouldn't be too upset over her absence.

She gathered up the stockings and a few other decorations she thought would look pretty on the console room walls. She knew that the Doctor would probably return soon and was looking forward to starting their festivities.

Nyssa's brow creased with concern. While all of them were troubled by Turlough's behavior these days, she knew that the Doctor in particular was terribly worried about him, even if he often did his best to show no outward sign of it. He always took the wellbeing of his companions to heart. Thus, Nyssa was certain that it was hurting him to watch Turlough wither away.

The more she thought about it, the more she was certain that the Doctor did not arrange this Christmas celebration just to keep Tegan happy. It was also another attempt to reach Turlough, to gently coax him away from the gloom that he was currently enveloped in.

Having found everything she was looking for, Nyssa stood up and went back to the console room. Turlough had finished hanging wreaths and was standing in a corner of the room scowling while Tegan inspected the decorations. As soon as she saw Nyssa return, she grinned.

"Ah thanks, Nyssa. Hey, I'd forgotten about all this stuff. Thanks. And I know just where I want to put all it too."

Turlough's scowl deepened and he looked as if he was about to protest when he was cut off by the TARDIS doors opening. Nyssa and Tegan also looked over to see the Doctor walk into the room. He was still wearing his cricketer outfit, but had replaced his usual Panama hat with a Santa one, the white pompom on the tip dangling over his left shoulder. He had bags draped over both of his arms and a sunny grin on his face.

"Ah, Tegan, Turlough, the console room looks lovely. Well done, both of you. Nyssa, could you please help me arrange the presents?"

* * *

A few minutes later, the four of them were sitting in a semicircle with a small pile of presents on a table front of them. By this point, most of them had been opened with bits of paper scattered about the floor. Turlough was currently studying the box of colorful designer socks Tegan had given him while the other three had just finished opening their gifts from him to discover that Turlough had bought all of them gifts of exotic foods.

They glanced over at him and Turlough shrugged. "I thought we were all here to experience new things. Enjoying food you've never had before can be an experience too."

"I agree," Nyssa said with a nod. "Thank you for the lollia berries, Turlough. They look lovely."

"Quite right," the Doctor said with an encouraging smile. "And I am looking forward to trying these tea hybrids you found."

"I've never had bosierre pies," Tegan said, studying the packaging. "But they do look good. I hope they go well with tea."

Each of them put aside their latest gifts and plucked another one from the pile with Turlough choosing a large box that turned out to be from the Doctor.

"Ah yes, I think you'll find this very interesting, Turlough," the Doctor said, scooting closer to him.

Turlough knit his brows together as he peeled away the wrapping paper in long sheets. He opened the box to find a large sketchpad filled with blank pages that felt as thick and sturdy as canvas. There was also a small jar filled with a royal blue gel that glittered with gold and silver flecks.

"Thank you, Doctor," Turlough said, his tone muted, but polite. The Doctor grinned and held up an index finger.

"Not so fast. These aren't the usual sort of art supplies. That is a very special kind of paint. Open the jar." Turlough shrugged and did as he was told. "Now, dip your finger into the paint. Just along the surface. You only need a small amount to make this work."

"Cripes, Doctor, you got Turlough finger paint?" Tegan chuckled. Turlough glared at her.

"Not quite, Tegan," the Doctor sighed. "Go on, Turlough."

Turlough brushed his index finger along the gel, making a long swirl into it. Once he was done, the Doctor took the jar from him, put the lid back on, and then placed the sketchpad onto Turlough's lap.

"This works best with people like you who have a strong artistic aptitude," the Doctor said, opening up the pad to first page. "Now, place your finger onto the center of the page and concentrate."

"On what?" Turlough asked.

"That is entirely up to you," the Doctor answered. "Form a picture in your mind and concentrate on it. See yourself putting the picture onto the paper."

"All right," Turlough said. He put his finger onto the paper and closed his eyes. He stayed that way for almost a full minute, silent and still.

Then Nyssa and Tegan gasped as they watched the paint slide off Turlough's finger in long, thin threads. The threads danced across the page, writing and twisting and then finally connecting to form shapes. It wasn't long after that that the shapes shifted into a face. A face with fine features and light colored hair. Color filled the spaces between the lines and that was when Turlough finally opened his eyes.

Nyssa, Tegan and the Doctor all moved closer to see Deela's face on the paper, smiling and seemingly looking straight at Turlough.

Turlough's lips pressed into a thin line as shock, despair and anger flickered across his face. Without a word, he pushed the sketchpad from his lap, bolted up from his chair and marched out of the console room. A few seconds later, they heard the slam of a door in the corridor.

The Doctor picked up the sketchpad and placed onto Turlough's empty chair with a sigh while Nyssa and Tegan sat back down onto their chairs.

"Well, I guess that's the end of this party," Tegan said. "Poor Turlough."

"Perhaps I should have a word with him," Nyssa said. The Doctor stood up and shoved his hands into his pockets.

"No. Thank you, Nyssa, but I think I should go this time."


End file.
